


Made of Poison

by Lorsy



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Beau-Centric, F/F, I feel raw for Beau, Lotta tears, lotta I love you’s - Freeform, obvs, oof, post ep 92
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:07:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22437661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lorsy/pseuds/Lorsy
Summary: “You know, alcohol once told me she didn’t care all that much for secrets."ORNott needs more lessons in confiding, and Beau is an emotionally volatile wreck.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett & Nott, Fjord & Beauregard Lionett, Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett
Comments: 8
Kudos: 126





	1. Unravelling

They’re drinking (when are they not). After Beau’s emotionally charged confrontation with her father, she had made her towards the local inn, the members of the mighty nein trailing behind loyally so.

The inn is crowded, filled with raucous conversation, and smelling of spilt ale and devilweed. Beau grimaces as she pushes her way to the bar flanked by Fjord and Yasha, keenly aware how the others flee to outskirts to seek refuge and find a table amongst the throws of laughter. For a brief moment, Beau wonders if they should leave, but then, the bartender catches her eye and suddenly she’s hailing for rounds of ale. She waits, stoney faced while Yasha and Fjord mumble quietly besides her, before a human girl nudges her side.

“Hey there,” she smiles. Her cheeks are flushed from wine, and she’s got a glint in her eyes Beau doesn’t have the heart to match, but she’s pretty. Simple. So, Beau does her best.

“Hi.”

“Haven’t seen you around these parts. Are you travellers?” Beau cringes, feels the whole in her chest open wider.

“Here for business.” It wasn’t a lie, just not the whole truth but Beau owed nothing to this girl.

“What kind of business?” she asks, flutters her eyelashes.

“Just… business,” Beau replies, thankful as the drinks arrive. Beau grabs at one, doesn’t bother helping the other brings the rest, and takes a large sip.

“You know, alcohol once told me she didn’t care all that much for secrets." She suspects its supposed to be enticing, the cheeky bite behind her words, but Beau is numb all over and least of all a victim to her charms.

“Right…” She draws out the word. Swipes the drink up not giving any thought to the girl or the money for the ale. Trusts Fjord will start a tab. _Trust_ , shivers as she thinks. Swallows it down with a mouthful of ale. Beau makes her way to the table.

Caleb is seated closest to the door, his eyes peering around the inn on high alert. Nott sits beside him with a seat to her left, closest to the wall. Across from her Caducous watches over Jester’s shoulder, looking at etchings that have already begun to make their way into the table. And Jester...

Jester’s watching Beau’s approach, watching her already in that way that she does. Like she’s keeping tabs on all Beau’s broken pieces, ready to put them back together. Beau’s skin bristles all over under it.

She settles in next to Nott who’s already snatched an ale. She suspects some innocent fool has lost his drink but thinks nothing of it. Respects Nott’s need to drown her own demons. Nott parts with her drink, albeit reluctantly, pulling a locket from the pocket of her jacket. Another fool, Beau thinks. A sharpened tooth digs its way into the crevice of its opening, trying to pry apart its secrets.

“Nott,” Jester nags, tearing her gaze from Beau, “that’s so bad for your teeth.” It’s strange how Beau feels like she can breathe easier.

Nott flashes the teifling a wicked, jagged grin before she resumes her task with with renewed determination. Jester tsks and turns her attention back to the half finished illustration.

They carry on with back and forths, but Beau is too exhausted and drained to converse, worried her throat is red raw from all the secrets already split that day. Instead she loses herself, finding beauty in Jester’s chaos as she swishes the ale in her mug.

She knows she should be keeping her distance. She knows. But she can’t bring herself to do it. Not tonight. Not like this. So she stays. Basks in the joyful radiance that is Jester Lavorre, and drinks (because when doesn’t she).

“What do you mean _especially_ me, Nott?”

“Because, Beau, you know,” Nott says absentmindedly around a mouthful of copper, “loves you -“.

The gnawing stops, Beau’s hand stills. They’re both frozen, Beau’s eyes boring into Nott while Nott looks everywhere but Beau. And Jester, oh Jester, she laughs and it feels like magic to Beau.

She leans across table, rests her hand over Beau’s who’s fingers are turning white around her glass. “I love you, Beau. We have each other, all of us, we’re your family.” The now goes left unsaid. Hangs between them heavy and hurting, and Beau is breaking. Shattering under the pressure of all these things, these _feelings_ , raw and ripping at her insides.

Beau meets violet, sees earnest and honesty, and love, so much _love_. And it breaks her even more. Her breathing is heavy, heart thudding beneath her chest, pounding against her rib cage. She realises then, it felt like hope. This almost moment they had between them. Because Jester doesn’t love Beau, not the way Beau loves jester. And so she breaks.

Beau slips her hand out from underneath Jester’s, suddenly feeling crushed by the weight of it. Brings the ember liquid to her lips and gulps down the last remnants. Beau can’t handle this. Not tonight. Not after she’s already drained her emotional reserves, bled every ounce of vulnerability dry.

She offers her a weak smile in return when Jester’s eyebrows furrow slightly, and kicks the chair out from under her as she rises. She looks back at the girl by the bar, sharing laughter amongst friends. Another sharp knife twists its way into her chest, steals the air from her lungs, and suddenly, Beau is overwhelmed with this selfishness once more to have it, to take it. She’s overcome for a moment by how easy it is to slip back into it. Into this person she wasn’t proud of, she didn’t like, wonders briefly when she’d shed herself of it. She knows it was probably somewhere between fighting gnolls and quiet moments beneath the roots of the Xhorhaus. But the memories hurt too much right now, feel something like lead in her veins, so Beau pushes them down, plasters a smirk across her face that is so very _Beau_ as she saunters her way up beside the girl. The laughter fades slightly and curious gazes find her form, but Beau only sees the girl, only sees a whole that needs filling.

She fucks her in the alleyway. It’s dirty and meaningless and Beau feels empty at the end of it. When she’s done, she wipes her hands against the cloth of her pants, doesn’t bother pretending to know her name and stumbles back inside the inn. She makes it halfway down the hall when she sees the entrance to her and Jester's room before she thinks better of it. Instead, she climbs her way up the staircase that leads to the roof and settles in beneath the stars, Jester's words rattling around her brain. _Be clean_. How must it feel, she thinks. Wonders where you find it beneath the bruised knuckles and bleeding hearts.

Slowly, she curls in on herself to let darkness take her, surrenders knowing that clean isn’t a luxury for people like Beau.


	2. Clean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I have lost and loved and won and cried myself to the person I am today.”

Beau wakes up to the slow beckon of morning. For a moment, she feels at peace. For a moment, all she knows is the warmth of the sun. 

But then, the beginnings of a headache come crashing in, drumming against her temples, pounding on the door. She’s tired. Her limbs are heavy and her heart even more so. She’s angry, she thinks. Fights the urge to punch at something, anything, everything. She reaches her arms over her head, tries to roll out the knots in her spine, but her shoulders still slag under the weight. Because she’s not really angry, she’s disappointed. And it is so much easier being angry. 

She’s not sure how she got here. Like looking in the trails of sand when the footsteps don’t match. Wonders when she turned soft. Tries not to think how she’s not sure if that’s a bad thing anymore. 

Beau rises, slowly, from the  chair she’s slept on. Wooden slats never make for a good bed and she’s stiff all over. Heading to the stairs, she braces herself. For the descent or the aftermath, she’s not sure. She’s not sure she’s ready to see Jester. Jester who has always seen her better side. Beau’s not sure it ever existed. She shuts her eyes, shakes her head, wishes she could do the same to her heart, and resolves to the fact Jester won’t think anything of it anyway. 

When she gets to the hallway, she finds herself before Fjord. He’s standing at the door to their room, looks like he wants to knock but has forgotten how. 

“What are you doing, you weirdo?”

Fjord startles, looks up like he’s been caught. 

“Oh, Beau, I thought you’d be inside, I didn’t realise - “ He’s stumbling over his words. He’s nervous and Beau’s heart clenches even more. 

“Oh yeah... there was this girl...” she trails off, scratches the back of her neck, let’s the story go unsaid. Stifles the shiver when her fingers brush over the beginnings of her tattoo. 

“Oh, yes... we saw.” He looks away awkwardly like he’s afraid of saying too much. Like Beau’s not the only one trying to navigate the aftermath. 

“Oh, right.” Beau straightens. Tries to stand with more pride,  tries even harder to ignore how she can’t seem to muster any. “So, what’s up?” 

“I was wondering if maybe, maybe you’d like to train this morning”. And he’s formal again, carries himself in that careful way that is so Fjord sometimes, and her heart feels lighter for a moment. Because she knows this about him, _knows_ him . And for a moment, that is enough to make her breath easier. But then she remembers how it can hurt, agony all over and she wants to be angry. For so long, it was her only clutch, but she holds no anger, not for him. 

“Oh yeah, of course, man.” She shrugs and it’s nonchalant. 

They head to an out skirting field. It is dry and dull much like most of the landscape here, but they’re alone and so Beau is thankful. They’ve been running through a series of drills, bodies already heaving but it’s not enough. Beau needs more, she thinks. She wants to hit something. Fjord, of course, is ever accomodating, and he has this look in his eye where he just  _ knows _ . Beau can’t stand it, can’t even bear it, so she does what she knows best. She hits things. As hard as she can. Eachfist fuelled by red, so much anger seething out, drips down her chin, curls around her feet. 

Fjord is valiant, but not even he can withstand this rage. There’s a crack, it sounds out through the open field, and he winces while he clutches his arm. Beau pales, feels empty in the pit of her stomach, open her eyes like she forgot how to see. 

“Oh my god, dude, I’m so sorry. Fuck, Fjord, I’m so sorry.” She’s scrambling to him, keeps saying sorry like a lost prayer, like a chance at salvation. 

He tries not to let his bottom lip quiver while the healing surges through him. It’s over quickly but the guilt has settled in. 

“Beau...” he says. Slow, stern. Like he needs her to slow down. She can’t. 

“Beau.” He tries again and her eyes snap to his. They are soft, warm, look something like home. She shatters under them. 

The broken pieces splinter out as tears first before Beau even realised she’s crying. But suddenly Fjord is holding her and sobs rack her body. 

“ _Beau_. ” Fjord is desperate. Like he needs her to know, like he can’t understand how she doesn’t. “Beau, everyone loves you so much.  _ I  _ love you so much. We are the mighty nein. We are the captain and his first mate. You do not need to hide from me.” 

He says it softly. Needs the words to be delicate enough for Beau to take. Because she is already made of too many broken pieces. 

“But I don’t deserve your love.” It comes out in sobs, from the deepest parts of Beau. It is raw, and it carves at her throat as it climbs it’s way out. 

He stops. Pushes her back. Grips her arms firm like he’s worried she’ll run, like he needs her to stay. 

“Yes, you do.” He says it with finality. “I have seen you, I  _ see _ you. I would not be who I am now without your aid, Beauregard.” Fjord is hoping desperately these words will seep in, Beau can see it and it shoots fear in her veins, pools in her fingertips. He softens, again, and he is, he’s seeing her, because there’s so much sadness in his eyes. “I only wish you could see your worth as I do.” 

It feels a lot like drowning. She thinks maybe Fjord knows about that.

“Sometimes I just feel so unsure how to just... be me... and honestly... it is so goddamn...  _ exhausting _ .” She’s stumbling over the words, knows he doesn’t mind, crawls forward anyway. 

He doesn’t say anything, just pulls her back into him and its like finding the shore. She’s crying, again. Tethers herself to him. Realises she did that along time ago. To them all. He brushes his hand over the base of where she embedded Molly in her skin. She breathes in deep. Exhales, feels cleaner as she does. 

They finish up and meet later for breakfast. They’re all waiting, gathered around a table, solemn looks on their faces like they’re waiting for the verdict. Yasha is the first to notice her. She’s standing behind them, one foot on the wall she’s leaning on. She straightens, then softens. Calms the storm inside Beau. 

They all look up as she gets closer, plants herself next to Caleb. He lifts his hand that knows destruction, clasps it over hers, burns in the best way possible. Nott slides her a button. It is small, an perfectly round, and Nott never parts with her things. Beau squeezes it hard, hopes to never let it go. Caduceus is already pouring her a tea, pushes it across the table, the corners of his mouth tilting up when she takes it. It’s warm in her mouth, in her hands. She swallows, looks up from the cup, comes in contact with violet. Jester is sitting diagonal, hands fidgeting in her lap. She chances Beau a nervous smile. Beau would give anything to make it shine. 

“So,” she starts, here’s the air reach their lungs, “we should probably head out. We’ve got a witch to hunt and all.” She tries to joke. It’s not funny. They laugh lightly anyway. 

They finish breakfast and go to gather their things. Jester and Beau are quiet, stepping around the space between them. 

“You all good to go?” Beau asks, bag packed. 

Jester turns. She’s got sadness in her eyes that doesn’t belong. 

“Jessie...” her voice cracks. She reaches out, she’s not sure if for her sake or Jester’s. 

Jester crumbles, seeks refuge in Beau. They hold onto each other, tight enough to keep the pieces from falling. Beau is overwhelmed by the feeling. Because Jester is solid and Jester is  here . She revels in it, hopes to carve it to memory. 

She whispers, I love you, against the base of Jester’s horn. She doesn’t mean to say, but she doesn’t want to take it back. Because it honest, and it is real, and it is  Beau . Jester’s arms wrap around tighter, pull her even closer. 

“I love you so much, Beau.”

And Beau is okay when it doesn’t mean the same thing. Because Jester is family and Jester is home, and if Beau can be that for her in whatever way she will. Beau has never felt so full. It spills from her eyes, rolls down her cheek. She breathes in deep. Exhales, feels cleaner as she does. 

Nott finds her later when they’re riding north. 

Beau’s riding up the rear, when she slinks back besides her, head facing forward like it wasn’t on purpose. 

“I’m sorry.” It is quick and sharp, much like many Nott things. 

Beau knew it was coming, but it hits her harder than she thought. She turns to Nott, sees her like she’s never before. Sees this pain, this sadness that binds them. Sees how they’re both lost somewhere between someone they once were and who they are becoming. Because they’re both bare, asking the world to forgive them. 

“You were already forgiven.” 

Nott looks at her finally, sees her like Beau sees Nott. She looks away just as fast, nods once, drives her horse to the front. 

Beau cries again. Wonders when she became this person who cried so goddamn much. She breathes in deep. Exhales, feels cleaner as she does.

They’d left the horses a while back, cut through thick forest. It was quieter her, eerily so. Made the hair on Beau’s neck stand up. Hopes Molly is with them. The light is harder to see here, covered by dense thickets and foliage. It’s why they don’t see it. It’s quiet, it’s fast, and it’s lunging at Caduceus before they know what’s happening. Caleb is trying desperately to engulf it in flames, while Jester and Fjord are dragging the bleeding firbolg to refuge. Only, refuge doesn’t come. Two more beasts do instead. They’ve got jagged fangs and curling claws, look like maybe they were human long ago. Yasha and Beau are back to back, thrown together by attacks they didn’t see. It hurts, and her head starts to spin, but Beau rises. She gets a hit off, and then another, tries to stun it before it moves again. Nott plunges a bolt in a thick, meaty shoulder as Caduceus gets to feet again. Fjord is sending blasts, one after another, between unicorns that flock to a form. They were caught by surprise but they’re getting there, feel like they’re winning. Beau spins, got fire in veins. Smacks one across the jaw. Feels the bones crunch beneath. It wails, darts back into the forest. Another doesn’t look any better, with scorched bits of pelt and limping limbs. But they’re are three, Beau is sure. Only she cannot see it. She darts her eyes around, finds Jester not far away. Red eyes peer out from over her shoulder with savage teeth bared. Beau doesn’t think. Doesn’t have time. Just grabs as Jester, pushes her away. For a moment, she’s too caught up in Jester to feel the pain. She looks down, three talons stick out from her stomach. 

She hears the squelch of blood as Yasha decapitates it, feels her own when the talons withdraw. Jester’s looking at her with something like horror. Like she can’t understand why.

“Jester…” she croaks, coughing blood as she does. 

Beau sees it, the moment Jester realises. Slow at first, then all at once. 

She can’t breath. Everything goes black. 


End file.
